


Rescue Them

by towritemeanstolive



Category: All fandoms, No Fandom, Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: And Mean It, Anxiety, Creative, Creative Writiing, Depression, Emotions, Escapism, Everything Can Be Slam, Fucked Up, Future, Grateful, Great Now That Song Is Stuck In My Head, Hope, I Can't Remember Shit, I Swear I'm Not Yoda, I hope it gets better, I was again, Just words, Mental Illnesses, Music, No Rhymes, Not, One Day I Can Say I'm Okay, Poet - Freeform, Poetic, Poetry, Poetry_Stuff, Questions, Self Harm, Self-Destructive, Thinking, This Is Also Not Really Slam, Ungrateful, Violence, Yesterday Was Bad, a lot of the time, breakdown - Freeform, but then again, depressed, destructive, faith - Freeform, forgetful, friends - Freeform, happiness, help me, it'll be fine, it's fine, life sucks, mental health, not graphic, poem, so many questions, thoughts, very bad, very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towritemeanstolive/pseuds/towritemeanstolive
Summary: Not having the best time lately.





	Rescue Them

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Mentions of self harm

Why does it not alarm a mother when her child tells her they don't have a reason to smile?

What does she think her oldest is doing in her room all day?

There's a difference between not liking the outsides and never leaving the house.

How can a mother not see there's something fundamentally wrong when her kid is clearly moving slower, talking less, lips formed to a constant anti-smile?

Why do they have to suffer in silence?

Why does one half of their life have to be a lie?

And really, isn't it more than just 50%?

There's a reason they're too open on the internet.

There's a reason they never leave the house.

There's a reason they don't trust people.

Why do they have to tell hundreds of strangers the most personal details?

Why do they have to hope for better days by reading messages from friends, strangers, and those in between?

And why doesn't it work?

Why do they have to be so ungrateful?

You can tell them how much they mean to you

How much they have helped you

And oh how amazing they are.

They don't believe you.

Why do they think none of the messages do anything?

Why do they think “Fuck off” whenever someone tries to comfort them?

They wish they could believe you.

But they can't believe you.

Nothing works.

Why does nothing work?

Why do they want to be alone, but also long for certain humans’ contact?

Why do they want to starve, but binge-eat?

Why do they have to cry in their childhood bedroom

Silently

Alone

In the dark

Listening to a genre of music that isn't widely known nor accepted, but makes them feel less like an outcast?

But why isn't even music helping anymore?

For someone who is afraid of change, they sure do leave many parts of their old self behind.

One could say two haircuts in three days should be enough

Yet there they were cutting their fringe

They gave in to their impulses

Still wanting more.

Kind of wanting to shave their head

Kind of wanting to rip out their hair with bare hands

Wanting to feel again

When they are feeling too much already?

Wanting to feel different?

They think they deserve pain.

And no words can convince them that they are wrong.

_They are flicking a thin, black headband against their wrist._

_At first, they don't feel any pain._

_Then it comes, like waves, in waves._

_The skin's colour turns pink, then red._

Why do people fight pain with pain

Expecting to make any change?

Why do people fight war with war

Expecting peace?

It doesn't work.

But it doesn't matter anyway.

Nothing does.

_They flick._

_And flick._

_It stings._

_And they flick._

Why can't people see that positive messages won't make them feel better?

_And they flick._

Why can't people see how bad they actually are?

_Small spots of blood crawl up and settle between the lines of their skin._

Why don't people accept that they're physically unable to seek professional help?

_Their skin expands where they hit it.  Tiny bumps form itself, decorating their wrist and turning it into a landscape.  Little mountains that will probably decrease soon._

Why should they self harm when it doesn't change anything anyway?

But why should they not?

It doesn't matter.

_Mountains turn into hills._

Do they do it for the pain

Or because it wouldn't matter anyway?

_There's a redness on their wrist, that spreads from left to right like an insubstantial piece of jewellery._

It doesn't matter.

One thing should matter though.

There is always a reason for everything.

There is a reason secrets exist.

There is a reason they don't tell their family how they are feeling.

They are fighting against the urge to grow some flowers on their arm.

There is a reason they say their family depresses them.

There is a reason someone would say they hate their family.

And it shouldn't be that way.

Will they flick again?


End file.
